


Safe Room

by BubblegumPanther



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types, Resident Evil: Revelations 2 - Fandom
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Breastfeeding, Breasts, F/F, MD/LG, MD/LG Themes, Mind Break, Mommy Issues, Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 05:03:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9584705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BubblegumPanther/pseuds/BubblegumPanther
Summary: "My name is Moira Burton. My coworkers and I were taken here against our will. I don't know where. We have these fucked up bracelets and this crazy woman is talking to us. Some kind of monsters have killed the others-"After managing to get a radio signal off of Sushestvovanie Island, Moira collapses in defeat. Her despair prompts her to behave in a rather unusual fashion.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by my experiences with the game, my abnormally strong kink and this adorable picture by Sia-G!  
> http://sia-g.deviantart.com/art/RE-Moira-Burton-My-lovely-Teddybear-523636168

“Please, send help! Please…”

Releasing the microphone, Moira sank to the floor. Would she get an answer? Could she? If not, how would she know if anyone had picked up the transmission? For all she knew and for all she would know, her broadcast was going nowhere, losing itself amidst the turbulent waves that surrounded the island.

Tears started to leak from the corners of her eyes. She could only hold on to her brave and arrogant persona for so long. Sure, it would be natural for anyone in her situation to freak out, but she couldn't let herself be that weak. She had to be strong, for Claire. She would be useless, otherwise. But alone, with her partner occupied with the radio tower, she could let herself feel the emotions she had been hiding. She was tired. She was upset. She was scared.

She let herself wail within the solitary of the station. Her arms wrapped around her calves, hugging them against her waist, knees at her chest. She rocked herself just slightly in this fetal position, hunching over in an attempt to hide her face from the nightmarish world around her.

“Moira?” A voice broke through the deafening silence. Moira blinked, shaking free two more tears from her eyelashes. “Is… Everything okay?”

Claire’s approach was hesitant, cautious. Though her hand wasn’t on it, she was readying herself to pull out her gun if need be. Trust her to think she had turned at the slightest out-of-character act. Moira lifted her head, bringing a hand up to wipe at her eyes before replying. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she lied. Though she fought to hide as much emotion as she could, it managed to leak through her words, making them shaky. Claire’s hesitance vanished, rushing to Moira’s side and taking a knee. One hand rested on the girl’s back, and the other on her knee, head tilting to try and catch a glimpse at Moira’s expression.

“Moira.” Moira turned her head away. “Moira,” Claire spoke in a more demanding tone, “Look at me.” Moira winced to herself before complying, exposing her pathetic look to her partner. Claire’s response wasn’t to interrogate her on her feelings, but to move straight to remedying them. She brought her hand from Moira’s knee to her face, thumb gently wiping at her cheeks to clean up both the tears and the dirt that was painted on them. “It’s going to be okay, Moira,” Claire promised. “We’re going to survive. I promise.”

Claire’s cleaning only led to more tears. Moira cringed and sobbed as her freshly cleaned cheeks were stained again. She released her calves, diving into Claire and burying her face as deep into her chest as she could. Though it took a second to adjust, Claire responded by wrapping her arms around her, holding her in place. Moira’s cries grew louder, tears free to add to the stains on her partner’s shirt. “I just… I just…” Claire didn’t need an explanation. She started to pat Moira’s back, firm enough to comfort but no harder than that.

“I want… I want to go home.” Mucus leaked from her nostrils. She started to hyperventilate. “I want to see Barry. I want my daddy.” She tried to catch her breath and sniffling in the process. “I want my mommy!” Her hands grabbed on to Claire’s jacket, bundling it up in her fists and holding it tight. She was behaving childish, and she knew that, but Claire didn’t seem to be objecting. “Mommy,” she whined out. “Mommy…” Her voice was even quieter now, just barely able to reach Claire’s ears. Her breaths were short, shallow, and they didn’t seem to be slowing down. Claire could tell Moira’s breakdown had only begun, but she couldn’t let it continue to get worse.

Claire’s arms tightened around Moira’s shaking body. Though it wasn’t cold within the abandoned studio, her teeth were chattering. Unfortunately, Claire couldn’t do anything about that. “I know,” was all she could think to say. Looking down, she saw Moira’s lips move again, though words failed to follow. “It’s okay,” she assured, squeezing the girl in her arms.

Moira reacted this time, gasping like she had just breached the surface after swimming. She let the air fill her lungs, returning voice to her words as she spoke them to Claire’s stomach. “I want mommy,” she begged, as if Claire could personally escort her to her. Once again, it was overtly childlike, though she couldn’t help it.

“I’m here,” she tried to comfort. She wasn’t any Kathy Burton, but at least she could be here for Moira right now. She felt the fabric of her shirt shift as more of it was pulled into Moira’s grip.

“Mommy… Please don’t leave me.”

Claire froze. She didn’t mean it like that! She could see where Moira made the mistake, but she couldn’t play a role like that right now! Neither of them had the time! However, given Moira’s fragile state she was afraid to turn down any of her requests. “I… I won’t.”

Moira’s hands loosened, invoking a sigh of relief from Claire. When she pulled her head back, her face looked even more miserable than it did before. Not only was it tear-stricken, there were two very clear lines of mucus running from her nostrils to her upper lip. Claire’s brow wrinkled, a frown forming on her face. Gripping the cuff of her jacket in her right hand, she pulled it up and held it to Moira’s face, using it like a handkerchief to wipe Claire’s face. Her jacket wasn’t exactly the cleanest of things to use, but given the current circumstances it would suffice.

As she wiped off Moira’s lip, the girl’s eyes met hers. She was expecting Moira’s gaze to be downcast, despondent, but… She was looking at her.  _ Directly _ at her. Her eyes were wide, innocent. She was depending on her, that much she could tell from the look alone. Ignoring the unpleasant dampness and the knowledge of what had been wiped onto her cuff, she released it and lowered her hand. Moira still looked at her, occasionally blinking or sniffling. She had absolutely no either what to do. Neither of them did.

This stalemate was eventually broken, surprisingly, by Moira. She pinched Claire’s shirt between her thumb and forefinger, tugging on it to request more affection. Claire complied, though mostly on reflex, taking Moira back into her arms and hugging her up against her body. Claire rested her chin on the top of the girl’s head, perching over her vigilantly to keep both of the station’s doors in her sights. “Come on. Over here,” she instructed, sliding up into the corner. Moira followed by awkwardly shuffling on her knees, making sure not to lose her grip on Claire in the process. From here, Claire couldn’t be surprised. Any threat would be within her field of vision. As an extra precaution, she pulled her gun from her holster, setting it on the floor next to her with her hand laid across it, index finger loosely holding the trigger.

“I’m hungry,” was the next she heard from Moira, likely a few minutes having passed since they fell into silence. “I’m hungry, and thirsty… It hurts.” Her voice wasn’t as quiet as it had been before, but it still wasn’t the Moira Burton that Claire knew. Something was  _ off _ in the way she talked. There was a piece of her that was missing.

“I know,” she answered, hand rubbing up and down her back, “I’m hungry too.”

She felt her jacket being tugged on. Looking down, she saw Moira gripping it in both hands, eyes fixated on… Oh. Oh god no, she didn’t mean  _ that _ kind of thirsty, did she? She couldn’t even produce that stuff! Claire opened her mouth, but no declination would leave it. The words were stuck in her throat. She couldn’t say no to her. She couldn’t feed her in the way that she wanted, but in order for both of them to survive, she needed Moira in a state where she could defend herself. It was in her best interest to cave to the girl’s wishes.

“Okay, fine… Just, give me a second.” Moira released Claire’s jacket and sat up straight. With her free hand, Claire forced each button of her shirt off. As she did so, she kept her focus on one of the two doors, alternating after each button or two. They were still in danger, how could they be doing this? Her eyes didn’t drift from the door once she had finished unbuttoning, instead reaching out and feeling for Moira’s shoulder before pulling in.

Moira chimed in again. “Mommy, the bra.”

Claire took her eyes off of the door to look down at her chest, seeing a plain white bra supporting and covering her breasts. She cursed to herself, silent to the point that her partner couldn’t hear it. She took her finger from her gun’s trigger, but didn’t put it down. Reaching behind her and underneath both her shirt and jacket, she tried to unhook her bra, gun in hand. It took far too long for Claire’s liking to take it off, her looks between doors more hurried. Finally the clasp came free, freeing her own hands and allowing her to resume her previous position. Her free hand lifted up her bra, pulling her eyes from the entryway to look at Moira. “Okay, come on,” she ordered, though her voice was unusually soft.

Moira’s gaze was almost exclusively on her breasts, though she did look up to Claire and nod before leaning in. Both of her hands took one breast in hand, cupping it with one and exploring the softness and texture with the other, as if an inspection were needed before she latched on. Though she had asked for it, she was hesitant to put her lips to Claire’s breast, giving her several more glances before very delicately closing them around her nipple. She closed her eyes and started to suckle, lips tugging and squeezing on the small bud of flesh. Though there was nothing physical to be gained, the act put her at ease, transporting her back to her life before the kidnapping, before Terrasave. She felt like she was at home.

Claire had already returned her attention to the world outside of them. Her trigger finger itched, readying itself to fire a bullet into the open air that was likely to at any moment occupy one of the afflicted. Her left breast stung slightly as Moira suckled upon it, though the feeling wasn’t exactly unwelcome. Though it hurt in its own way, it also granted a certain degree of pleasure that made her body start to relax. Her handgun once again lowered to the floor. Eventually, she managed to pull her eyes away again, looking down towards the girl suckling at her teat. Despite the uneasing atmosphere and dark, foreboding surroundings they were in, she managed to smile. The next time she looked up, she rested a hand on Moira’s head.

Moira continued to fruitlessly suck until her mouth ran dry. She built up saliva in the back of her mouth, then pulled off just long enough to wet her lips before latching back on. A trail of drool ran from her lips to her chin, and Claire seemed to shiver a bit as she felt the new, cold sensation on her areola. Rather than cling to Claire’s shirt, Moira’s arms wrapped around it, hugging Claire close until she had ‘drunk’ her fill.

Claire’s breathing had slowed. Each inhale and exhale was calculated and slow. She never allowed herself to breath too quickly or breathe in too much air, keeping herself steady as Moira suckled. She tilted her head back, briefly resting it against the rusted metal wall. Even though she was the protector in this scenario, Moira was making her feel safe. She looked down at her again to find a trail of drool smeared across her chin.

“Moira,” she called. Moira was silent, firmly attached to Claire’s breast. “Moira,” she called again, her hand starting to push the girl’s head back. Moira complied to the push, releasing the nipple and looking up to her partner. Her mommy. Claire finally relinquished her gun, leaving it resting on the floor to once again take her cuff and wipe Moira’s face clean.

“Mommy,” Moira cooed, a dumb smile on her face that slowly turned to one of shock. Claire mirrored this with one of her own. “Claire!,” she suddenly blurted out, peeling herself from the woman’s touch. Though in shock, the missing element had returned to her voice. Both of her hands cupped her face, heading lowering to the floor as she let out a groan. “Oh god, what did I do?”

Claire moved to rest a hand on Moira’s shoulder, but she pulled away before they could make contact. Her hands were now on her own neck, linking behind her head like she was about to be inspected by an officer. “Fuck, what did I do?,” she whined again. She looked up to Claire hesitantly, hands lowering. “I’m sorry, Claire, I-”

Claire gripped her shoulder, successfully this time. “It’s okay, Moira.” Things certainly didn’t feel okay. “I get it.” She didn’t. There’s no way she could. “You’re just a kid.” 20 years old. Not a kid. “You’re scared-” Scared doesn’t cover half of it. “-and you needed an outlet for that fear.” Sure. Totally not going crazy right now, just trying to cope with her feelings by eliciting unwanted sexual favors from her friend.

Moira lowered her head again, but Claire grabbed her chin and brought it back up. “Come on. You can keep going now, right?” Though Moira wanted to say no, she nodded in response. “Good.” Claire’s hands dug under her shirt and jacket, struggling to clip her bra back into place. Moira then watched her button each individual button on her shirt, her pale, warm and soft skin slowly being hidden away by the fabric. She reached out to take her gun back in hand, pulling out the magazine to check the bullets before pushing herself back up onto her feet.

“Come on. Let’s go find a way off this island.”

Moira was hesitant to stand. Slipping her legs out from underneath her, she pressed down on her knees and pushed herself up, taking her torch out of pocket and readying it. Even if she only served light duty, she felt needed. Claire was her partner. Her friend. Her mommy. She was going to get her off of this island, at any cost.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Remember, your kudos and comments is what makes me strive to keep creating! Please consider leaving one of either (or maybe even both) if you enjoyed this piece of fiction!
> 
> This work is a one-off, although if given enough encouragement I may consider adding a few more chapters in various other safe spaces throughout the game!


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